Noxland: What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas(teaser 'cause I'm lazy)
It was going on seven in the morning though the sun had yet to break the tangle of storm clouds and fog that had clogged the Manhattan skies. Special Agent Alice Dark had now been laying in her bed, still fully clothed including gun holster and boots, for over nine hours. Dull thunder followed the lighting that would briefly illuminate the chaos that had become her room. Photos, hundreds of photos, from standard size to full blow ups to the quick polaroid littered every surface, including the ceiling, of the already darkly designed high rise apartment.
Jabberwock would call it art, she thought and knew this. The rare few did. It was these that she was assigned to. They did come to her on occasion for the rager and the revenger who grew bored and vicious beyond normal means. But these truly special ones, the cutthroats that worked from chaos looking to make carnage, they were her specialty.
She had opted for this absorption of blood and viscera to distract herself from the twenty-two baby blue pills that were spread across the duvet next to her. Mirroring the six .32 caliber bullets laid to the other side of her. She couldn't remember how they had come to be there though she had a nagging idea why. They likely wouldn't be there if she had a proper nights sleep in the last two weeks but the Jabberwock would be calling soon. She knew, this one wanted contact. This one wanted to be understood. She'd play along.
Through the haze of sleep deprivation and deep distruberd thought she heard her phone ring. Numbly she lifted the receiver to her ear.
"Dark."
There was a pause on the other end and then a voice that sped all thoughts and second hand emotions of Jabberwock and for a moment she was once again a nine year old girl standing atop the stairs looking down at her father who lay crumpled and bloody at their foot. "Hey Alice, didn't disturb you did I?"
"Hello Nicholas."
"You know most the world just calls me 'Nick.'"
"Most the world doesn't know your night job."
"Nothing you can prove."
"Don't think I haven't tried."
There was another, shorter pause, "That's...comforting...to know."
"Where are you Nicholas?"
"Vegas."
"Why?"
"That's the thing. I haven't the faintest idea as to how, why, and when I got here. All I know is someone took a hammer to my head and there's a monkey gang of guys that's straight out of the mob days looking to finish the job."
Alice dropped the phone to her shoulder and opened her eyes. The dull gaze of a Jane Doe victim returned her gaze. "You told me you quit smoking."
"Yeah," she heard the distinct sound of a lighter and the exhale of smoke, "but it's not the first time we've lied to each other. So, are you going help your baby brother out here or should I just speed up the process and find myself a five bones hooker?"
With a deep sight she said, "Fine but you owe me a Christmas dinner."
"Deal. And quit looking at crime scene photos. I know you are and I also know their doing nothing good to that grandmother ticker of yours."
"Deal."
....God I suck.
Jabberwock would call it art, she thought and knew this. The rare few did. It was these that she was assigned to. They did come to her on occasion for the rager and the revenger who grew bored and vicious beyond normal means. But these truly special ones, the cutthroats that worked from chaos looking to make carnage, they were her specialty.
She had opted for this absorption of blood and viscera to distract herself from the twenty-two baby blue pills that were spread across the duvet next to her. Mirroring the six .32 caliber bullets laid to the other side of her. She couldn't remember how they had come to be there though she had a nagging idea why. They likely wouldn't be there if she had a proper nights sleep in the last two weeks but the Jabberwock would be calling soon. She knew, this one wanted contact. This one wanted to be understood. She'd play along.
Through the haze of sleep deprivation and deep distruberd thought she heard her phone ring. Numbly she lifted the receiver to her ear.
"Dark."
There was a pause on the other end and then a voice that sped all thoughts and second hand emotions of Jabberwock and for a moment she was once again a nine year old girl standing atop the stairs looking down at her father who lay crumpled and bloody at their foot. "Hey Alice, didn't disturb you did I?"
"Hello Nicholas."
"You know most the world just calls me 'Nick.'"
"Most the world doesn't know your night job."
"Nothing you can prove."
"Don't think I haven't tried."
There was another, shorter pause, "That's...comforting...to know."
"Where are you Nicholas?"
"Vegas."
"Why?"
"That's the thing. I haven't the faintest idea as to how, why, and when I got here. All I know is someone took a hammer to my head and there's a monkey gang of guys that's straight out of the mob days looking to finish the job."
Alice dropped the phone to her shoulder and opened her eyes. The dull gaze of a Jane Doe victim returned her gaze. "You told me you quit smoking."
"Yeah," she heard the distinct sound of a lighter and the exhale of smoke, "but it's not the first time we've lied to each other. So, are you going help your baby brother out here or should I just speed up the process and find myself a five bones hooker?"
With a deep sight she said, "Fine but you owe me a Christmas dinner."
"Deal. And quit looking at crime scene photos. I know you are and I also know their doing nothing good to that grandmother ticker of yours."
"Deal."
....God I suck.